Star Trek Cookbook Angers Two Kinds of Nerds

I'll admit it: I love Star Trek. But c'mon: some things tied to the franchise are just downright embarrassing. Case in point: The Star Trek Cookbook. It's "written" by Ethan Phillips--the guy who played Neelix (the Jar Jar Binks of Star Trek). Neelix was a character from Voyager--arguably (although, honestly, I don't see how anyone could possibly argue this)--THE worst installment of the Star Trek franchise. Did anyone like that show? It was truly horrid.

Anyway. "Neelix" up there decided there was a good idea (i.e. money to be made) in creating a cookbook showcasing recipes that would guide the fans in preparing their very own food eaten by characters on the show. A fun idea, but wow--according to the reviews on Amazon this idea went horribly wrong. Of course, the danger in failing a venture like this is that you draw the ire of two different groups who are especially anal about their particular interest: trekkies and foodies. Is there anything so scathingly verbose (or entertaining) as a spurned member from one of these sub-cultures?

This spectacular train wreck fails both groups on two different levels: it offends even halfway-knowledgeable trekkers with its wild inconsistencies and lack of research into the Trek lexicon, and it's apparently a pretty lousy excuse for a cookbook as well. I loved reading the reviewer comments, as you get a taste of the bitter dissatisfaction from both worlds. There's the culinary outrage:

"...some of the recipes themselves are poorly written and edited. For example, the Peptide Cake recipe does not specify the pan size."

"...the recipes are poorly laid out, and only the most general details and instructions given for the preparation of the food."

"...many of the recipes are rather boring and have just been given trekkie type names"

"There's a recipe for hot oatmeal. Like this couldn't be read off any package of Quaker oats."

"Some of the recipes aren't recipes at all"

"There are recipes that look good but when you start you find they are maddeningly vague. For example on one drink you're told to add "a whole chunk of fresh ginger." How big is that? You can destroy a dish with something that potent without better directions."

"...many of these recipes rely on bullion for flavor."

"Romulan Ale is nothing more than blue Gatorade mixed with sparkling water"

And then there's the critiques from the nerd faction:

"...it's been obviously written by people who don't understand and didn't bother to check the background information given on most foods and beverages presented in any of the Star Trek movies and the first four TV series"

"...after having confirmed that "raktajino" is a beverage similar to strong coffee..."Neelix" offers a recipe for raktajino cake that contains no coffee!"

"Any one who has seen "The Next Generation" knows that parthos looks nothing like brussels sprouts"

"On page 115, "Neelix" says that Commander Riker's favorite Klingon dish is "bregit lung"; on page 117 he says that Riker's favorite Klingon dish is "pipius claw."

"...who needs a recipe for oatmeal on the doubtful assertion that it's Jake Sisko's favorite breakfast?"

"...the authors have avoided including any recipe containing alcohol, altogether ignoring the liquors and spirits often showcased in the Star Trek universe."

"To pass a cherry pie off as "blood pie" is to say that the publishers really don't know--and don't care-- what Star Trek is all about."

And there you have it: the trekkies and the foodies stand united on this front. I'm glad I read these reviews, because I very nearly had decided to add it to my bookshelf--there's a space available right next to my copy of The Ferengi Rules of Acquisition.

Summer Reading Kick-Off

One of the redeeming qualities of warmer weather is upon us: it's summer reading season here at MM! Time to revisit the list of future reads I've been compiling throughout the year and finally get down to it--let the traditional themes of serious historical pursuit intermingled with random "literary" frivolity commence! The usual M.O. of my summer reading habits is a steady diet of extremes: biographies! Novels! William Shatner fan fiction! Abraham Lincoln! Zombies! We like to mix the dense with the fluffy, the impressively haughty with the embarrassingly low-brow--it's what summer reading's all about!

Anyway, I thought I would share our first entry for your consideration: Thunderstruck by Erik Larson, I just finished it yesterday. Some of you may recall that Larson wrote another book that made the MM radar in a big way earlier this year: The Devil in the White City. Thunderstruck hits all the same notes, telling several stories that eventually intermingle: it's all about the invention of wireless communication (focusing on Guglielmo Marconi, the Italian inventor pictured above with his wireless equipment) and a murder that became the next great public fascination following the Jack the Ripper murders in London. Like Devil it revels in historical detail and breathless storytelling, this time focusing on turn-of-the-century London. Larson, who has written for The Wall Street Journal and Time magazine, is a helluva researcher--he seems to be able to reach past the primary resources and pull out the atmosphere and feel of the era.

Thunderstruck is fast-paced and fun (well, fun if you are interested in the finer points of the birth of globalization and a good/true-life murder mystery), and illustrates perfectly the effect wireless had on the world through the B plot: the killer and his lover are tracked and caught by Scotland Yard through the use of ship-to-shore wireless communication as they are fleeing from Brussels to Quebec aboard an ocean liner. The case was instantly famous--it was reported in the press around the world as it was happening, demonstrating the viability and value of wireless, which propelled it out of the realm of mere novelty and into widespread use. Recommended!

My next pick, as per my usual trend, will be a novel: The Kingdom of Ohio by Matthew Flaming. I understand this is a science fiction novel, a genre I've been meaning to revisit, and the review from Publishers Weekly really sealed the deal for me:

"Flaming's debut mixes time travel, historical grit and an alternate history of the American frontier in a romance with a fantastic bent. A contemporary antiques dealer, after coming across an old photo, unspools the story of Peter Force, newly arrived in 1900 New York from Idaho, as he joins a crew of laborers toiling in grim conditions to build the subway system. A chance encounter throws Peter into the path of Cheri-Anne Toledo, a troubled woman who claims to have traveled seven years into the future from the Lost Kingdom of Ohio, a small frontier kingdom over which her father reigned. Cheri-Anne's plight, and his feelings for her, drags them into the orbits of a crusty J.P Morgan and of dueling inventors Thomas Edison and Nicola Tesla. As Peter and Cheri-Anne evade the powerful forces invested in Cheri-Anne, the moment when their lives and the contemporary narrator's intersects looms closer and closer, creating palpable suspense. The journey through the seedier side of New York's Gilded Age, with reprisal killings for labor agitators and nights spent in drunken dance halls, is an arresting contrast to classic time-travel themes. This is a real crowd-pleaser."

Time Travel! The year 1900! An alternative history of the American frontier! Edison vs. Tesla! Labor agitators! Oh boy!

Wacky (Informative?) Library Books for Kids

Oh boy, readers--it's time for another look into the collection of our favorite local library to see what far-out reading materials are available for the education of our youths! Ready, children?

I found the above item, The Gas We Pass: The Story of Farts by Shinto Cho, the other day. It's one of those kids' books that try to be informative, but really just come off as being unsettling and weird. I guess I can appreciate the effort, though--kids really do need to understand bodily processes and their reasons for being...but it freaked me out. The text went randomly back and forth between using actual medical terminology (e.g. "anus") and alarming, crude description ("that hole in your bottom"). I think that's probably what makes this book so...distressing: I'd rather just have the real, technical terms thrown at me than be given a creepy, Disney-rated version that makes it sounds like it is something Not-To-Be-Named. That kind of vague insinuation just sends the wrong message (the message being: "I don't want to hear about that hole in your bottom").

So, I don't know if I will ever be recommending this one, but really: what other childrens' non-fiction books about flatulence are really out there? I can't just hand a 5 year old Gray's Anatomy...(although that would be hilarious). I guess I'll have to keep this one in mind for just such an occasion.

(Oh, Also: the artwork is ATROCIOUS)

Awful Library Books

I work at a small branch of my local public library, and it's sometimes my job to periodically remove books from the collection. I usually look for damaged materials, duplicates (extra copies of last year's reality show star memoir), or otherwise outdated things. I came across this gem on a recent weeding effort and I'm not sure if I can bring myself to actually take it out of circulation (even though its record says it hasn't been checked out since 1999!). It's Virgin Heat, by Laurence Shames (Orion, 1997).

The cover has to be one of the most disturbing ones I've come across, and that includes the particularly exploitative true crime types of books--the ones with over-exposed mugshot-laden covers that are intentionally in-your-face grotesque. There's just something about that innocent little kitty inside the sinister ring of fire (in conjunction with that lusty title) that makes me both anxious and grossed out. Is the kitten going to be okay? Is it heavy-handed 1997-era symbolism? What is this troubling image supposed to convey about the story?

It's apparently something about Key West, going by the blurb on the dust jacket, but it was oddly vague about events beyond that (looks like maybe an old lady type mystery who-dunnit sort of thing. Probably trying to cash in on Lilian Jackson Braun/Rita Mae Brown cat detective hype). I did some research on our Mr. Shames and apparently there was an entire series of Key West-inspired mystery novels to his name, although these days he writes Lost fanfiction (under the pseudonym Gary Troup). I guess the heady days of the 90's, with their sexy, Key West-based murder-mysteries, are truly over.

I guess I should also note that this is the large type version, and anyone familiar will know that LT covers tend to look pretty low-rent (for some reason)--they often use what appear to be public domain stock photos or middle school art projects whose subjects are loosely related to the content of the book (or are a literal translation of the title, as the LT cover designers probably don't trouble themselves to actually read the books they are creating covers for). Sometimes it's like someone copied and pasted some clip art from a Microsoft template or something. One wonders why they can't simply use the same cover design they used for the regular type version. But then, I guess we would be denied the pleasure of this version of Virgin Heat, the book about kittens being endangered in Key West.

I'll have to bring this to the attention of the Awful Library Books blog over at Wordpress (a very entertaining use of your time--if making fun of outdated and/or dumb library materials is entertaining for you).

Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter

Oh, boy readers--lookit that! From the guy that brought you the zombie fiction sensation Pride and Prejudice and Zombies comes this weird addition to the suddenly gluttonous sub genre of horror mixed up with...what? A last minute cashing-in on Lincoln bicentennial fever? Hmm.

I guess so...this is one of those books, and I said this about P&P&Z, that is a funny idea that I get really excited about but then turns out to be a terrible idea in practice. Like, P&P&Z? Gawd, was it ever terrible and painful to read! If you want to imagine what it was like, then just imagine reading Pride and Prejudice...but now imagine it as being re-written nearly scene-for-scene in a haltingly awkward prose meant to mimic the original, plus gruesome zombie action, crudely engineered yet gleeful descriptions of flesh eating, and the bewildering inclusion of ninjas (not as fun as it sounds, trust me). Oh, and there's also some awful illustrations to look at.

So, bottom line: yes, I am going to buy this book. Am I proud of that? Well, not really. But what can you do? This guy has found my soft spot (Abraham Lincoln), and, for all my above sniffing, P&P&Z is an object on my bookshelf that is not out of place by any means (we have a fairly significant zombie fiction section in our collection), and the title and cover alone make it worth the inclusion, if not the content. I guess you could say its more of a conceptual inclusion. But really, one thing that most excites me is thinking about the much-needed segue Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter will make between the two sections of our book collection. Now the transition between horror/zombie related materials and Abraham Lincoln biographies on our bookshelf will not seem quite as jarring.

Inane Best Sellers Now Read For You...

Since I work in a public library you may imagine I deal more with steamy pulp mysteries, Mormon vampire "literature" and hot cake chick-lit bestsellers than I do with "good" literature. You would be absolutely right about that. And while I really shouldn't pretend to be any better than those middle-aged housewives who get all glassy-eyed over Robert Pattinson--many of my past reads have been less than great art, after all (ask me about my shameful consumption of fan fiction and Star Trek "novels" sometime...)--I can't help but be a little judgmental.

Still, as part of my job at the library I am expected to provide guidance to our patrons in the form of what we in the library trade call "readers' advisory" service. I'd say 85-90% of the people I talk to in this capacity want to know what I thought about the latest Janet Evonovich mystery or whatever. Readers, I just can't bring myself to crack open those types of books, so I was extremely happy to stumble upon William Boot's new blog over at The Daily Beast wherein he reads these sorts of things for me, and then unloads the skinny in a quick, easily digested essay. I was especially impressed with his description of the new James Patterson phenom, and his observations about Patterson himself are pretty enlightening. As everyone knows, no other author this side of Danielle Steel cranks out more books in a year than Patterson, the fact of which leads one to wonder many things--all summed up nicely by Boot in his blog, which will be helping me immensely in dealing with my advisory shortcomings.

The River of Doubt, or: Oh, My Theodore Roosevelt Was Quite a Badass

Readers, I've been reveling in my new found ability to read whatever random book that strikes my random fancy, and this week I'm all in a froth over one called The River of Doubt by Candice Millard (a suggestion from my friend Kathy--thanks, Kathy!). It's about Teddy Roosevelt's ill-planned & near-disastrous expedition down the River of Doubt, a then-unmapped tributary of the Amazon River, on which he almost died of malaria and/or dysentery.

He was making the exploratory journey under the quasi-endorsement of the American Museum of Natural History--which reacted with horror after Teddy changed his plans just after arriving in South America. He had initially planned a relatively sedated tour which included only a minimal amount of exploration, but switched to the more dangerous, death-wish conjuring expedition at the last minute (ostensibly because he was still sulking over a thorough spanking in the 1912 presidential election, running as the Progressive Party candidate, losing to Woodrow Wilson. He was such a sore loser that he didn't even take consolation in the fact that he at least beat poor Taft...). Have you ever seen the Herzog film Aguirre, the Wrath of God? Roosevelt's plan evoked similar themes of peril, misery, madness and death on the Amazon.

The President of the museum was Henry Fairfield Osborn (the paleontologist who named the T Rex and velociraptor, for all you Jurassic Park nerds out there), and he had a shit fit over Roosevelt's new plan. My favorite Roosevelt quote so far is his response to his dithering pal Frank Chapman, who was nervously mediating between Osborn and Roosevelt:

"Tell Osborn I have already lived and enjoyed as much of life as any nine other men I know; I have had my full share, and if it is necessary for me to leave my bones in South America, I am quite ready to do so."

Snap!

"We Must Have Bodies"

A passage I absolutely must share from The Devil in the White City that concerns: 1. my home state, 2. the University of Louisville, & 3. unabashed grave robbing!

"After a foiled raid on a graveyard in New Albany, Indiana, on February 24th, 1890, Dr. W. H. Wathen, head of the Kentucky Medical College, told a Tribune reporter, "The gentlemen were acting not for the Kentucky School of Medicine nor for themselves individually, but for the medical schools of Louisville to which the human subject is as necessary as breath to life." Just three weeks later the physicians of Louisville were at it again. They attempted to rob a grave at the State Asylum for the Insane in Anchorage, Kentucky, this time on the behalf of the University of Louisville. "Yes, the party was sent by us," a senior school official said. "We must have bodies, and if the State won't give them to us we must steal them. The winter classes were large and used up so many subjects that there are none for the Spring classes." He saw no need to apologize. "The Asylum Cemetery has been robbed for years," he said, "and I doubt if there is a corpse in it. I tell you we must have bodies. You cannot make doctors without them, and the public must understand it. If we can't get them from any other way we will arm the students with Winchester rifles and send them to protect the body-snatchers on their raids."

(Larson, 150)

Wow! I wonder if today's up-and-coming young U of L med students are in some way touched by this plucky, unapologetically brazen "yeah, so what?" attitude from a century ago. Maybe each student, upon passing the enrollment exam for entrance into the medical school, receives a ceremonial Winchester rifle to keep in their dormitory. The students accept this token with baffled excitement, wondering at the purpose of such an offering. Dismissing it as an eccentricity (perhaps a cryptic sort of reminder of the Hippocratic Oath?), they blow it off as something symbolic, whose meaning has been lost to antiquity, never guessing that they are functional: ready for service when the State's supply of medical cadavers dry up.

The Devil in the White City

Readers, I am very happy to report to you that my graduate school toilings in library school at the distinguished University of Kentucky are now at an end. I sat for my nerve-shattering comprehensive exam in November and just last week received word that I passed ("with distinction," said the letter) the final examination for the Master's Degree in Library and Information Science. Hurrah!

So what does this mean for you, the loyal readership of the Missiles of Mercy? Well, it means I now have much more time to devote to pleasure reading: an activity that has shamefully been pushed to the wayside since the beginning of the Fall semester to make way for the dry, dense foliage that is LIS literature. And of course, in the spirit of our semi-regular summer reading 2009 rap sessions, I will be reporting on the various singularities and curios that I find especially reminiscent of our mission statement here at MM.

Case in point: I began reading Erik Larson's the Devil in the White City this weekend, and am currently 150 pages in. It's one of those non-fiction-written-as-fiction types of books that have began cropping up in the last decade or so (see also: Swanson's novelized narrative Manhunt, about the search for John Wilkes Booth and the Lincoln assassination conspirators. It is excellent), and I have to say i'ts a trend I can certainly get behind. They are generally fun to read, packaging historically accurate information into a guess-what-happens-next kind of layout--this lends a kind of tension to the narrative that is lacking in your everyday biography or history book.

The story is, like so many about America at the end of the 19 century, pretty incredible. It concerns the conception, construction and operation of the Chicago World's Fair--including the architects who designed Chicago's "White City" (Daniel Hudson Burnham! Frederick Law Olmstead! Louis Sullivan!) and a handsome young sociopath who became America's first serial killer. Buffalo Bill Cody, Thomas Edison and Archduke Ferdinand also make appearances in the story(!) and you get to hear all about the grit & shit that accompanied the Gilded Age. Oh, Boy!

I am speeding through The Devil so I can start my next awesome non-fic pleasure cruise: Candace Miller's The River of Doubt, which is all about Theodore Roosevelt's crazy adventures exploring an unmapped tributary of the Amazon! You heard it here first! (Maybe!)

Summer Reading Roundup!

Well, although summer officially goes on for a few more weeks, I have started back into my final semester of grad school--now, as it ever has, it seems summer ends with the beginning of classes. So! That means it's time to take a look back at the books that made it onto my summer reading list, as well as discuss the unexpected, last minute addition...

While perusing the museum shop at the Smithsonian's American History museum, I happened upon the copious pile o' Lincoln books. I couldn't resist owning one of them, and decided on James Swanson's Manhunt (pictured above. Note my ticket stub to Ford's Theatre being used as the bookmark!), which, rumor has it, will be the source material for an upcoming movie adaptation (spoiler alert: Harrison Ford has been associated with the project).

Readers, I was unprepared for how gripping this book would be; it took all of two days (of which I was fully engaged in vacation activities) to get about 200 pages into it. Swanson tells the story in a kind of back-and-forth narrative, describing the unfolding madness of events from the perspectives of both conspirators and manhunters, 369 pages spanning about 12 days--he doesn't waste any of them. My highest recommendation; I'm not sure if it's just because of my Lincoln obsession or if this book really would appeal to anyone, but it is an amazing story told from a balanced point of view. you even catch yourself rooting for Booth in a few places ("No! don't cross the Potomac there! You're not in Virginia yet!"). Go read this book right now, Lincoln fans! Every American should be familiar with the players in this story, and this book fleshes them out better than most.

SO! Now, for the record, here is the official list of Books I Read This Summer in this, the year of our Lord, two thousand and nine:

• Who Censored Roger Rabbit? by Gary Wolf
  
• Post Office by Charles Bukowski
  
• The Madness of Mary Lincoln by Jason Emerson
  
• Star Trek Academy: Collision Course by William Shatner
• Mrs. Lincoln: A Life by Catherine Clinton
• A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson
• Pride and Prejudice and Zombies by Seth Graham-Smith
• The Long Goodbye by Raymond Chandler
• Trouble is My Business by Raymond Chandler
• Mr. Thundermug by Cornelius Medvei
• Tried By War by James M. McPherson
• Mailman by J. Robert Lennon
• Take the Cannoli by Sarah Vowell
• The Barefoot Mailman by Theodore Pratt
• Logan's Run by William F. Nolan and George Clayton Johnson
• Manhunt by James L. Swanson

There she is, folks--a very worthy list of heavy hitters if I ever saw one. You may use it to come to whatever conclusions about my mental state and/or personal character you like...I'm going with "blossoming Lincoln addict with a Postal fasciniation and tendency towards fantastic/tragic visions of the future."

An image from the basement of the main branch of the Louisville Free Public Library. Fatalities include: 3 bookmobiles, 4 computer servers, over 10,000 items slated for transfer to branches (i.e. books, DVDs, audio books, etc), new aquisitions (including new books, DVDs, audio books, etc), donated and withdrawn materials to be sold at an annual sale, 2 elevators, and $50,000 worth of new computer equipment.

Louisville Free Public Library: Worst Case Scenario

The main branch of the public library where I work was flooded by a rare and insane storm experienced by the city on Tuesday. According to the local meteorology alarmists (AKA, our local weathermen--although, I guess I should give 'em a pass in this instance) Louisville had 7 inches of rainfall in about an hour and 15 minutes, which did seem totally crazy. The basement was under 4 feet of rainwater in a matter of minutes, there was widespread electrical shorts which took out all power to the building, and later caused an electrical fire. Walls made with 100 year old plaster are buckling, sewer backup and mold make the library uninhabitable, and the elevators are a total loss. We've been told that the building will open again, with limited access and services, sometime in January (estimated). So, "complete disaster" and "crippling doomsday scenario" are not exaggerated phrases at this point.

I work for a branch library that had no rain damage at all, but the computer servers we work off at all the branches were in the basement at the main branch...so...no internet, no card catalog, no patron records, no service. Our bookmobiles were all totalled, about 10,000 new books and materials, along with $50,000 worth of equiptment for a new branch set to open next week, were destroyed. Instead of listing what we can't do, I guess I shoud just say what we/I can do:

1. I can rely on my somewhat-accurate memory of fiction writers to tell you where a particular novel may be found (although I cannot tell you if it is supposed to be in, or may be at another branch),
2. I can rely on my surprisingly accurate and somewhat-in depth knowledge of the Dewey Decimal System to find a non-fiction book on a subject of your choice, or
3. we can cross our fingers that my iPhone is getting 3G reception at any given moment (spotty service inside/near my workplace at best, AT&T--already regretting that 2 year service plan...) so that I can bask in the beautiful glow of the Internet.

It is pretty telling that the usual hustle/bustle of my little neighborhood branch has screeched to a deadened silence, breached only by the occassional interjections of a few smug oldsters. The sorts who were always making snarky comments before about there being no physical card catalog, so bitter and full of codgery about all the punk kids with their "MyFace" and their "SpaceBooks" and their "cellular phones" that seem to populate the library now, are having the proverbial field day: flashing us their best "I told you so" looks when they hear that we're basically crippled by the absence of computer service. We've had to put up with a lot of resentful stories that begin with "In my day..." and "These kids today..." and "Well, I never...!" from these types (and worst of all, I occassionally find myself agreeing with them: me, one foot already knee-deep in fuddy-duddydom). Anyway, these are the only patrons I've dealt with on any level beyond the simple inquiries of whether our computers are "working" yet (they actually work just fine. If you want to write a Word document or play solitaire).

This situation leads to the real-life dealings with the inevitable--perpetual--Discussion-with-a-capital-"D" initiated in nearly every course I've taken in my library science grad school program thus far: What Is The Library's Role In Today's Society? This topic is designed to spark spirited and thoughtful discussion, and it usually does (along with the also-inevitable "Hey, what about that shriveled old-maid librarian stereotype? That's totally wrong, right?" discussion thread), but I was hoping not to have to really see it in action like this. Pretty disheartening that as soon as the internet goes away, so do all the young people (and most of the old people, for that matter). If I had to state an average age of the patrons who are actually using the library during this crisis, I would put it around 75...that's only 2.7 years below the current US life expectancy! So I'd say, at least for the public library, technology plays an integral role to its continued relevancy--and I absolutely hate saying things that sound like that.

More updates to come.

"Ever since then I have believed that God is not only a gentleman and a sport; He is a Kentuckian too."

-William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury

Summer Reading Update!

I've mentioned before that this summer I'm taking a hiatus before my very last semester of graduate school, and thus have some freedom with which to read whatever books I take a fancy to. Free from the usual oppressive, mandatory, curriculum-dictated library science reading list, I've been into all sorts of crazy, ecclectic selections: it's been a literary free-for-all! I tend to obsess over what prestigious title to add to the list (which I'll post when my fall class starts, thus officially ending Summer Fun Time for me), and I've found that there is a formula to this bookish madness, however sketchy.

For example: I finished Take the Cannoli by Sarah Vowell a few days ago, and--being the especially fickle, unfocused sort that I am--it left me feeling like a bit of fiction. You see, that's become how I operate, literarily: non-fiction then fiction; entertaining then difficult; historical then Star Trek, etc. Reading too many serious biographies (or even bios injected with a healthy dose of levity, such as Cannoli) right in a row depresses me (ask me about the time I read two Mary Todd Lincoln Bios right in a row and ended up in a crying jag over the death of poor, sickly Tad Lincoln!), and too many fictions one after the other makes me feel too frivolous and idle. As long as I stick to that basic rule, my interest is held and my mood is (relatively) steady.

Right now I'm about 50 pages into what looks to be my future answer to the question "What is your favorite novel about postal workers?" It's called Mailman, and it's by J. Robert Lennon. I should explain that I am a particular enthusiast when it comes to the United States Postal Service because that particular institution and I have a (somewhat) casual, (somewhat) sordid, on-again-off-again history together: I've worked sporatically as a postal employee, sometimes enthusiastically, sometimes reluctantly--always apocalyptically--and in several different capacities, since 2004. As an actual, union card carrying, letter-delivering mailman for 2 of those years. I have to fess up to a certain amount of misguided nostalgia and curious fondness when it comes to the USPS. So there's another big clue to my choice of novels.

I was pretty much on board to read this as soon as I found it in my library's catalog, but I was beside myself when I read Amazon's most glowing customer review of it. Posted by "Cactus Ed" it is titled "Most Engaging and Exciting Novel I've Read in Years!" and was posted on December 28th, 2003. I almost cried when I read it:

"I happened to have happened upon this book because of the title. You see, I...am...a...Mailman! Seriously! Thats what I do to make money to feed and shelter my family. I read the other reviews here and decided to get the book - and oh boy! am I not disappointed! This guy Lennon (John Lennon at that!) can write. He's amazingly perceptive of both outer descriptive elements and the inner worlds we all create and inhabit. As I've been reading I keep realizing that this novel is what it feels like to be me, a human being with constant inner dialogue and reminincing going on. Plot? I don't know nor do I care whether there's a plot to this story. The main character ("Mailman"!) is my hero, a fully-alive all-American (yes!) in the year 2000. He is wonderfully real, and I wonder how Lennon, who is only 32 or 33, does it. I am deeply impressed with his wisdom and writing ability. Incredible attention to detail, yet the story never bogs down in it. It moves right along, and I hope it never ends. Reading a novel like this is like being in love - rare and wonderful."

I imagine Cactus Ed, dressed in his sweaty, salt-stained polyester uniform, hunkered down in his mailtruck and reading Mailman, tears rolling down his rugged cheeks as he realizes this Lennon guy--this 33 year old kid--has somehow peered into his soul. Cactus Ed is reading the story of his own life, and he doesn't care if there's a plot, because this Mailman character is just like him: an American in the year 2000 with a constant inner dialogue! I, as an ex-mailman, have to agree with Ed: if I were still delivering mail for a living, I would probably be crying in my salty polyester right now too. So far, the novel describes almost exactly what it's like to be a mailman (although, to get the complete, nightmarish picture you would still need to read Bukowski's novel, which describes exactly what it's like on a bad day--if you were a raging, depraved alcoholic, that is).

Curiously, it turns out that the postal profession has inspired a fair few novels to be written about it--more than I would have guessed. I've already told you about the books inspired by the real life Florida legend: The Barefoot Mailman by Theodore Pratt and The Legend of the Barefoot Mailman by John Fleming. There's also the afore-mentioned booze-and-obscenity-laced Post Office by Charles Bukowski--an earlier summer reading entry of mine. The epic Studs Terkel tome Working includes an essay about a postal worker. I know you'll be thinking about The Postman Always Rings Twice by James Cain if I don't mention it, but that wasn't really about a mailman--he was just a metaphore for eventually getting your comeuppance for murdering your lover's husband, so I can't count that one. I'm sure that god-awful Kevin Costner movie The Postman is probably based on a novel, I just haven't tracked it down yet.

I'll be on the lookout for more postal-inspired books--maybe Cactus Ed and I can start a book club.

Summer Reading List

Not taking any summer classes this year has resulted in a happy phenomenon over here at MM: leisure time to read books! Usually I get a few weeks off between semesters to cram in one or two novels, but we're talking 3 and a half solid months of bookish enjoyment--oh, boy! Reading for fun means no dry library science tomes, no stodgy essays on the "librarian stereotype/archetype backlash" (yes, there's a backlash--an extremely self-conscious, overly done, "look at me: I'm a librarian and I have a tattoo and blue hair!" kind of backlash), and no ponderous journal articles extolling the scandalous hypocrisy of centralized collection development. Nope, just me and my friends Mary Todd Lincoln, Raymond Chandler, William Shatner and whomever else grabs my fickle literary attentions.

I have about another month of summer reading frivolity in which to indulge...what will I read next? Try and guess from the following list of my most recent book selections (May, 2009-current):

• Who Censored Roger Rabbit? by Gary Wolf
  
• Post Office by Charles Bukowski
  
• The Madness of Mary Lincoln by Jason Emerson
  
• Star Trek Academy: Collision Course by William Shatner
• Mrs. Lincoln: A Life by Catherine Clinton
• A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson
• Pride and Prejudice and Zombies by Seth Graham-Smith
• The Long Goodbye by Raymond Chandler
• Trouble is My Business by Raymond Chandler
• Mr. Thundermug by Cornelius Medvei

I can confidently recomend any of the above selections for anyone who is wondering (although anyone who has read my post about P&P&Zs will know that one comes with an asterisk). I'm thinking something non-fiction for my next book, but I could probably go read some fluffy novel just the same. Just don't suggest anything by Stephenie Meyer--seriously, I got my silly teeny-bopper toes wet in the shallow end of the goth swimming pool with Anne Rice back in the 90's, and I don't need to revisit that unfortunate little experiment again. All my coworkers have been trying to get me to read the Twilight series, and I am resisting that one rather obstinately (I dropped a young adult lit class last semester because I saw on the syllubus that we would have to read Eclipse. No thank you). Zombie parodies are way more sophisticated than vampire romances, readers.